


What Death Tastes Like

by DiYunho



Category: DCU, Joker - Fandom, Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom, The Joker dcu - Fandom, joker DCU
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Awkward Flirting, Best Friends, Cancer, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coping, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Desire, Drama, Drunken Flirting, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotions, F/M, Family Drama, Feelings, Feels, Female Friendship, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Funny, Gotham City - Freeform, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Joker dcu - Freeform, Love, Love Confessions, Lung Cancer, Major Illness, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Near Death, Romantic Fluff, Search for a Cure, Terminal Illnesses, The Joker - Freeform, The Joker Jared Leto, Tragedy, Tragedy/Comedy, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiYunho/pseuds/DiYunho
Summary: Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/You, Joker/Reader, Joker/You, The Joker/Reader, The Joker/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow me on Tumblr and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

“Hi daddy,” Emma enters the kitchen and you follow, immediately greeting The Joker.

“Hello Mister J.”

“Pumpkin,” he acknowledges his daughter. “Miss Crane,” he growls at your presence and you can’t help it:

“I like your purple shirt Mister J; makes you look ravishing.”

“Oh yeah?” he scoffs, used to the 22 year old throwing this kind of stuff his way on a regular basis.

“Definitely!” you approach and point at his can of grape juice. “Can I take a sip?”

“Since when you like grape juice?’ The Clown Prince of Crime frowns but hands over the container anyway.

“I don’t,” you taste the sweet liquid and continue: “I just wanted to touch something your lips touched.”

“That’s a new one!” he rolls his eyes and snatches back his drink while Emma closes the fridge in a hurry, appalled you always flirt with her father.

“Keep her on a leash!” J advises his offspring and you snicker as she pushes you out of the kitchen. “I can’t believe you say those things to him!” Emma gives you a nudge on the hallway, amused and horrified in the same time. “He could be your dad!”

“But he’s not,” you wink, dodging her grip. “He could be my daddy though!”

“You shameless jerk!!” she laughs and starts chasing you. “How dare you??!!”

“He’s really hot for being 40-ish!” the enthusiastic Y/N teases more, speeding up so she won’t get caught. “I’m going to marry him and I’ll be your step mom. You’ll have to call me mommy!”

“Whaaaattt??!!” Emma shouts and The King of Gotham shakes his head because he can still perceive your aberrations: the truth is he’s uncertain if that’s all they are, thus the dilemma J doesn’t care to solve regardless.

You quickly run into Emma bedroom and snatch a pillow in order to protect yourself from her attack.

“I love your dad!” you grin and she keeps relentlessly hitting you with her fluffy cushion, annoyed:

“I hate you!! I totally hate you!!!”

You suddenly start coughing and your best friend halts her rampage, concerned.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Where’s your med?”

You pull the vial out of your jean’s pocket and she opens it while your cough intensifies; Emma fingers tremble at the sight of blood stains on the palm of your hand.

“Here, take this. Two?”

“Y-yes,” you struggle to talk and swallow the tablets, finding it difficult to calm down without the remedy you failed to ingest earlier before the worse happened.

“Come’ere,” she carefully sits you on the bed and begins wiping the red spots off your skin with a clean tissue. “There you go… Deep breaths, OK?” the young woman urges on the verge of crying: although she’s used to your episodes, she can’t cope with the thought of losing her best friend.

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; she didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late.

“Better?” Emma analyzes your face and you can tell how upset she is, that’s why you try to distract her the best way you know how.

“Is your dad wearing a new cologne?”

“Huh?”

“He smells sooooo good, I swear I get this uncontrollable desire to kiss him all over,” you cough a bit more and she slaps your thigh, outraged.

“Would you stop it???!!!”

“I think he’ll miss me when I’m gone,” you playfully giggle. “Who else would flirt with an old man in his 40’s?!”

“Stupid girl…” Emma’s voice quivers since she doesn’t like to be reminded you’ll leave her. You both are silent for a few moments before she gathers the strength to continue the planned evening.

“I’m going to prepare you a nice, warm bath, then we’ll tag along with my dad at his Neon Devil club, alright?” she pouts and you don’t have the heart to admit you don’t feel like going out anymore.

“Sure… … sounds perfect,” you sigh and underline. “Only if I can spend some time alone with Mister Joker in the VIP section.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Emma concludes and you won’t quit.

“I didn’t say anything bad, you’re the perv for thinking indecencies regarding a man and a woman…alone… in the luscious VIP room… a few drinks… music blasting… attractiveness mooing to be unleashed…”

“Mooing???” she burst out laughing, forgetting she was about to admonish on your crazy ideas…again.

“Yup, mooing…” you proclaim with delight. “It’s a very sexy term, won’t you agree? … … Sexy like your dad!” you immediately blur out and stomp towards the bathroom while she hunts you down with the only purpose of shutting down the outpour of nonsense flowing out of you.

***************

Neon Devil Club, 10:36pm

“Are you going to dance?” Emma’s red cheeks pop up next to you.

“No, not tonight. Don’t worry, I’m having fun!” you point at the two empty cocktail glasses in front of you, still working on your third one. “I think I might call it a night soon, I’m tired.”

“OK, Y/N. Let me know when, we’ll both go!” she yells over the deafening tune.

“Stay and have fun, I can get a ride!” you glare at The Joker sitting at the bar a few inches away from you, totally absorbed by his text messages.

“Are you sure?” Emma hesitates and you poke J’s arm in order to get his attention.

He finally looks up and his daughter pleads:

“Daddy, can you take Y/N back to our house when she’s ready? I want her to be there when I return, this way we can gossip after the wild intercourse I’m gonna have with one of these lucky guys!”

The Clown Prince of Crime stares at her, displeased with the comments.

“Hilarious,” he growls and she jumps up and down, excited to see Bane’s son in the crowd.

“Don’t get mad, daddy!” she pecks his cheek. “I’m joking… Maybe…” Emma chuckles at his grumpiness and you are proud of her achievement in mocking the forever serious Joker: despite the nickname, the green haired menace is not the epitome of joyfulness.

“Are you supposed to have alcohol with the medications you’re taking?” he gestures at your cocktail.

“Nope,” you serenely confess and guzzle down more. “I’m a burden to my father and he doesn’t even know it,” you sniffle and J senses something strange about your affirmation. “He locks himself in the lab for days, researching on ways to overcome my terminal cancer. Did you know Evelyn left him two weeks ago?” you ask and The King feels cornered; you’re probably tipsy and in mood to chat while he’s not. “She’s perfect for him and he let her go… He would ignore her for days, immersed in his ridiculous project of saving me. The amazing Doctor Crane can’t take the hint this is a battle he won’t win. I made peace with what’s happening to me, but he can’t…,” you wave at the bartender for another glass. “Why won’t my father accept the inevitable outcome?” the pain in your tone prompts J to mutter:

“He just tries to postpone the inevitable.”

“I’m grateful for his help,” you ramble on. “I take remedies he makes for me and it’s nice to avoid the traditional chemo and losing my hair. I don’t look like I’m dying, correct? If you wouldn’t weren’t aware of my illness, you couldn’t tell, right?”

“Yes,” The impatient Joker signals the bartender to halt mixing your fresh drink; in his opinion you had enough.

“I got my test results this morning, “ you disclose, pouting. “They’re bad…” Y/N inhales the rest of her liquid courage and taps on the marble counter, disappointed at her own statement. “Did you ever taste death?” the weird question makes him taunt.

“Naahhh.”

“This is what it tastes like,” the heartbroken Y/N softly kisses The Joker and his remark hurts more than her disappointing routine evaluation:

“Strawberry margarita?”

You hop off your high chair so fast he realizes you’re flustered; it was the first time you kissed him, not that kind of kiss anyway and he completely dismissed your candor in the worst possible way. 

“Can we go please?” you intensely glare at your sandals and J opts out of attempting to patch up his callous reply; possibly the best decision regarding these circumstances simply because it doesn’t affect him at all.

“Sure, we can bail,” he grumbles and escorts you out of the club, wondering if you are done talking about matters of no importance to him.

****************

The master bedroom is cracked opened and you knock until The Joker bothers to acknowledge your existence.

“What is it?”

You sneak inside, adamant to request a tiny favor.

“Can I watch TV in here?”

“Why?” he wiggles in the middle of his bed, certainly not thrilled at your proposal.

“I won’t inconvenience you, ok?” you evade his inquiry and still being a bit tipsy briefly aids your plan; your drag your feet to the humongous mattress, then slip inside the purple sheets at the edge of the bed. “You know… If I would have lived longer, I bet you would have married me,” you gaze at the man relaxing close to your body.

The Joker nonexistent eyebrows go up so high it’s possibly a new record: why did Emma have to stay at the club instead of distracting you from whatever the hell this is?!

“We would have had at least 4 kids…” you continue your story. “ I’m young so every two years I could have been convinced to get pregnant; we would have had a small army of little Jokers and Y/Ns… I picked a few names already, would you like to hear them?”

“NO!!” he sucks on his teeth, irritated.

“Hmm…” you get discouraged yet it doesn’t last. “ You would have died at 65…”

“Why would I die at 65?!” J interrupts and his interest gives you a boost of much needed confidence.

“Car accident; you’re a shitty driver,” you lift your shoulders up, instantly correcting your sentence. “I meant reckless.”

The Clown Prince of Crime huffs and the fact that he engaged into this monologue of yours hopefully suggests he won’t chase you away until you finish.

“After your demise I would have mourned you for a decent amount of months, then I would have remarried a guy my age, this way I’m not in any danger of becoming a widow for the second time. I would obviously have our children too so not to worry, I would have survived without you.”

“Awesome, I was anxious you won’t overcome the grief,” his sassiness triggers your approval.

“Indeed; yet I have to warn you: if you ever cheated on me, I would have asked my father to create a special virus to obliterate you from the face of the planet!”

“Why are you shouting?!” The Joker scratches his chin, confused about your attitude.

“Sorry,” you take it down a notch. “I always get emotional when I think about this part…”

“Is this soap opera of yours almost done?” the impatience emerges; I suppose you tested his composure enough.

“I really like you,” you cut off his vexation. “You should be happy a young woman would crave an older man in his 40’s or 50’s,” you snort while adding to his growing restlessness.

“I think it’s time for you and the alcohol in your system to take a nap!” J hints at your departure and you abruptly bring it up since he’s basically throwing you out:

“Do you like me? You never get mad or chase me when I flirt with you…” you scoot over and cuddle next to him.

“What are you doing?!” J gets pissed at your boldness.

“I’m cold,“ you lie without a problem and he’s done with the dumb night he had to put up with so far.

“Get out!” The King of Gotham snaps and his sudden aggressiveness throws you off.

“I want to stay and watch TV; I promise I’ll be super quiet from now on. Cross my heart and hope to die!” you smile and your silly pun doesn’t have the outcome you hoped for.

“You know why I indulge a shallow brat’s idiotic flirting?!” he raises his voice and you shrivel because you realize he won’t utter anything nice at this point. “Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a walking corpse, hm? Despite what people think, I’m not that insensitive!”

You gulp and slowly roll out of bed, trying not to cry in front of him; you don’t remember sensing a stronger pain in your life, not even after you got sick.

“You’re so mean, “ you whisper and can’t stop the first tears streaming down your face. “I wouldn’t have married you anyway,” you rush out of the master bedroom and The Joker reprises his movie, undisturbed at the events he created out of spite.

“Fuck…” he mumbles when it hits: Emma will chew him alive if she finds about his behavior; would you mention this to her? Or she would guess something went wrong if you depart from the mansion when she asked you to stay? The only person that counts is bound to make him rethink his awful actions; his daughter wouldn’t forgive him unless he patches up things. Might as well get it over with before he lands in hotter waters.

“Uggghhhh,” The Joker puckers his lips and contemplates his choices: not too many, thus he ends up in front of your bedroom 10 minutes after the fight.

He can discern your sobbing and opens the door without knocking because another human’s privacy is simply not his issue. You are standing by the windows and turn towards him, mad you didn’t lock the entrance.

“Your company is required in the master bedroom,” J elaborates on the subject and Y/N’s silence evokes a faint apology. “I don’t think you’re a walking corpse… … …”

No reaction.

“Come on, let’s watch TV in my room…”

“Why would you need a shallow brat’s idiotic company?” you blow your nose in a tissue and emphasize. “I don’t want your pity.”

“Crane’s a genius but the trait is clearly skipping a generation,” his way of attempting to restore the mood totally sucks. “It’s not pity.”

“What is it then?” you wipe your tears and he has no clue himself.

“Not…pity.”

Are you debating on his offer?

“Come on,” J grabs your hand and your resistance works a miracle nonetheless. “I’m sorry, alright? Not a word to Emma, deal? Or your dad, he would probably create a goddamned virus to exterminate me from this planet. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” he sulks, crabby at the idea of being killed for offending Scarecrow’s princess.

“I won’t…” you promise and you’re actually surprised when he lifts you up, guiding your legs around his waist.

“You can sleep in my bed if you want to… until Emma gets back,” The Joker recommends and you hide your astonishment the best way you can.

“Sleep like in dozing of or…?” you wish to determine and the response doesn’t fail to deepen the mystery:

“As I said, genius sometimes skips a generation.”

The King strolls out of the bedroom with Y/N clinging to him while he lifts her higher in his arms, closing his eyes when she kisses him.

And the only thing The Joker can think of for the moment is that if death tastes like this, it’s not the worst way to go.


	2. Chapter 2

“That was very nice,” you whisper in The Joker’s ear. “I know you’re not sleeping,” you sigh and force yourself to get out of his bed after watching TV together for almost 3 hours. “I’m going, OK?” you whisper, not sure why he’s ignoring you. But you have a clue: he probably just wanted to avoid a huge fight with Emma or your father finding out about his cruel words regarding your illness. “Fine, whatever…” you admonish and exit the premises, upset he’s behaving like that since he offered truce a few hours ago. The King of Gotham is actually completely out, even if you believe otherwise.

It was awesome having him carry you in his arms and not protest when you kissed him; you have to admit you were disappointed he didn’t initiate anything once you ended up in his bed; you really thought he would. J let you snuggle to him and you hoped for more to happen, yet his lack of interest made you realize it was stupid to try and hint you wanted him. What is a 40-ish old man supposed to do with a 22 years old woman that playfully keeps flirting with him? In this case, obviously just enjoy a couple of movies which proved he doesn’t take into consideration your dumb crush.

The more you analyze this night, the more you’re inclined to vote for the exact opposite of what you did: you should have kept your mouth shut and refrain sharing intimate matters with him.

I guess sometimes genius truly skips a generation …

*************

3 Weeks Later

You didn’t come to the mansion in the last 3 weeks: when J woke up the next morning after your visit, you were gone. Emma informed him you waited for her to catch up and then went home; he wondered if you left because of what happened or if there was no reason for it at all. One thing’s for certain though: The Joker got the slight impression you evade him, especially since two days ago you dropped Emma off then raced out of the property in a hurry when you noticed he was coming out of the house. The skid marks on the pavement were a pretty clear sign you didn’t want to linger at the place you normally enjoyed hanging out at.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean you can escape The Clown Prince of Crime forever.

“OK,” Emma gives you a soft nudge in the restaurant owned by her parent. “You gotta help me out,” she pleads to a skeptical Y/N. “I insisted we have lunch here for a good reason: my dad brought his wacko-on-and-off-girlfriend and I can’t stand her; I need backup. Please flirt with him and say that stuff you usually say!” she giggles. “You have my blessing to go crazy, I swear you won’t hear a peep out of me! It will be hilarious to see her reaction!” she pushes you and it’s too late to escape the unwanted rendezvous you had no clue about until now.

You are already at the table and didn’t have a moment to take in your best friend’s proposal: you wish you had a warning about this plan of hers but Emma impulsiveness and surprise element runs in the family.

Maybe she thought you would love such a funny challenge…

Yeah… not really…

You know Mara anyway and bumping into her alongside J is not enjoyable to say the least, mainly due to the odd atmosphere you hope his daughter won’t notice.

“Hi daddy,” Emma pulls her chair and you take a seat by her muttering a faint hello.

“Hey kid!… … Miss Crane,” he sneers and you intensely stare at the menu in front of you without blinking. 

“I didn’t see you in forever,” Mara addresses you and you indifferently glare at her. “I must say you look terrific: you are glowing! What’s your secret?” she snickers and you duly inform:

“I’m dying. I’m sure you remember I have terminal cancer; my dad makes my meds and they do help somewhat, thus the glow.”

“As long as you’re not contagious,” the woman underlines and Emma gasps at her affirmation.

You smirk and reach over to touch her forearm, softly digging your nails in her skin.

“I am and now that I touched you, you’ll die too!”

You get up from the table while hearing The Joker saying something but your ears are ringing so you can’t discern a word.

“How can you say stuff like this?!” Emma reprimands and you calmly take a small ampule from your pocket, open it and pour some dust in the palm of your hand.

“I was just expressing a concern,” Mara gesticulates and you bend over, blowing the fine ashes in her face.

“What the fuck?!” she quickly brushes the ticklish powder off her cheeks, worried at your action. “What is this?!”

“Nightmare,” you scoff. “One of my father’s top products. I recently assisted him make it stronger and there’s no antidote. Don’t worry though, it won’t kill you and it will wear off in a few hours. Plus, it’s not contagious. Enjoy!” you leave the gathering and Emma follows, enraged things didn’t go as planned yet she can’t blame Y/N.

Since the restaurant is closed to the public due to his owner’s presence, there’s not a soul around besides J that can hear Mara’s terrified screams once the wicked hallucinogen kicked in: it’s called Nightmare for a good reason!

*************

6:02PM

“Knock, knock,” The Joker enters Scarecrow’s lab, already in a foul mood.

“Not a step further!” his movement gets halted. “Sterilize yourself if you want in: I’m making more capsules for Y/N,” Crane points at the numerous ingredients on the counter.

“Your lab is huge, if I stay right here…” J tries to convince Jonathan although he’s aware he has zero chances: it never succeeds but his stubbornness prompts him to fight the request each time.

“No!” your father firmly rejects the proposal. “Sterilize yourself and come help me!”

“Where’s your daughter?” The King of Gotham starts washing his hands in the sink by the glass sliding doors.

“She went to stay at the cabin. I got lectured,” your dad huffs, scolding in the next second: “You’re not done! More!” he commands and J reprises the cleaning process required by his very obliging host.

“Ugh,” he mumbles and continues. “Why did you get lectured?”

“Apparently, I buried myself in this place and she hates it. I also got threatened that if I don’t stop trying to find a remedy for her incurable disease, she’ll quit taking the current medications. I received orders to call Evelyn and beg for reconciliation also,” Scarecrow briefs a gratified King of Gotham:

“I guess we both have someone in our lives we can’t neglect,” The Joker dries his hands, puts on latex gloves and snatches an immaculate lab coat from the hanger nearby.

“What am I to do?…” Crane whispers. “Let my daughter die without trying to save her?…” then immediately snaps out of it. “Hair net!!!!” he shouts at The Joker, annoyed he’s trying to skip it.

“For God’s sake,” J complaints … still does as required. “What’s in for me in exchange for my services?”

“What do you want?”

“Two vials of your new, improved Nightmare formula. I witnessed it at work today and let me tell you, that stuff’s amazing!”

“How did you witnessed it at work?! It’s not released on the black market yet,” Jonathan carefully measures the quantities for your medicine.

“Oh, funny you should mention,” the evident sarcasm makes your father pay attention. “Y/N used it on Mara earlier today and she totally lost her mind! I had to lock her up in the pantry at the restaurant with three of my men guarding the door! She went bonkers!!!”

“Sorry,” Scarecrow’s flat tone irritates J. “I guess either you or Mara did something Y/N didn’t like. Welcome to my daughter’s shit list,” he cordially emphasizes.

“You shouldn’t talk to me like this,” The Joker fixes his green locks under the hair net. “One of these days I might become your son-in-law, you know Y/N showers me with her undivided affection.”

“Over my dead body!” Jonathan shrieks and The Clown Prince of Crime seems delighted.

“Hmmm… I can arrange that.”

“Just shut up and help me, would you? What am I paying you for?! Y/N needs more capsules; she’s almost out. Can you tell Emma to take this to her? I’m gonna let her chill, she’s still mad at me.”

“Wimp, you’re afraid to confront her,” J rolls his eyes and Scarecrow is not the one to be intimidated by his guest’s nonsense:

“Says the man that freaked out and searched the town for hours thinking his daughter run away when in fact she was asleep behind the rose bushes in the backyard at their mansion.”

“I didn’t freak out!” The Joker sulks at the unwelcomed reminder.

“Of course you didn’t,” Jonathan serenely replies. “Now fill out the capsules with the amount I already weighted and don’t mess up! I’ll verify your performance.”

“Give it a rest!” J growls. “Emma left for New York; she’ll be there for a couple of days. I’ll take this to Y/N.”

“Don’t think so,” he gets cut off. “I’ll send one of my couriers.”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“Why?”

“I have a score to settle,” J confesses to Scarecrow’s dismay. 

“If you hassle my daughter, I’ll create a plague designed only for your genes and I’ll exterminate you from this planet!”

“Imagine this is not the first time I’m threatened with a pathogen manufactured to ensure my demise,” The Joker hints even if he doesn’t have to.

“She is my daughter,” Crane explains, entirely understanding the reference. “The branch doesn’t fall far from the tree; she knows I would so you’d better watch it!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” the pushy menace concentrates on his task, adamant in finding a way to see you no matter what.

**************

8:31pm

The Joker drives on the narrow path leading to the cabin, stirring left when a car coming from the opposite direction hunks at him.

“Heeeeyyyyy, Mister Joker!!!!!” someone yells and the other SUV accelerates past J’s yet he has enough time to recognize the aggravating pest: Sam aka Bane’s son. A few unpleasant phrases are grumbled regarding the encounter when another detail sets off the pissed King:

Y/N is racing towards the cabin after recognizing her best friend’s dad vehicle; you came out to say goodbye to Sam and take a walk when your idea abruptly changed.

“Are you kidding me??!!” J grinds his teeth while watching you stumble in the grass, then energetically gather yourself up and sprint inside, slamming the door behind.

“Wow!” he exclaims while parking close to the stairs, unsure on how this day will evolve; so far it goddamned sucked.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker taps at the heavy oak door. “Open up, I have your med!”

Maybe if you don’t engage he’ll leave.

“Is this how you thank me for delivering your pills?!” he gets worked up, thumping intensifying.

“Leave the package on the porch and go away!”

“Oh, she speaks!!!” J instantly snaps. “Open up, it’s cold out here!”

“No it’s not,” you call him out on his bullshit.

“You owe me apologies for what you did to Mara!” he demands, cringing at your defiance.

“Ha! When hell freezes!!!”

“What was Bane’s son doing here?” he tries a different strategy, definitely losing patience.

“None of your business!”

“I brought dinner,” J adds because that’s the last ace in his sleeve. “From the restaurant… your favorite. Aren’t you hungry?”

Does the silence mean you’re giving in?…

“Did you bring strawberry crepes too?”

“Yeah,” The Joker lies since he naturally forgot about desert.

The door faintly creeks and you unlock it, finally letting him in; you’re hesitant about your judgement and snatch the two paper bags out of his hands: the small one contains capsules, the big one harbors foam containers with the foods you like.

“Where are the crepes?” you frown at the lack of the delicious treat.

“I have this suspicion you’ve been avoiding me,” J talks about the reason he’s there without answering your question.

“I’m not…”

“Then why don’t you come to the mansion anymore, hm?”

His gaze circles the living room, involuntarily noticing the blood stained tissues in the trash can by the couch.

“Did you have another episode?” The Joker inquires. “Should I call your dad?”

“No…I’m fine…”

“Are you sure?” he insists and you unwrap the plastic utensils, sniffing.

“It’s not a big deal, it happens more and more often… I wish Emma was here,” you wipe your teary eyes and J bestows his infinite wisdom upon the young woman.

“Well, my daughter’s not here and I’m not renowned for making people feel better,” he twists the cap of the bottled water near him. He takes a sip then gives the container to the confused Y/N. “I’m not sure if this will help, but you can touch something my lips touched.”

You smile at his offer, kind of happy he’s using one of your catchy lines.

“What’s this? Reversed flirting?” you pout and drink from the bottle, placing it on the table afterwards.

He doesn’t bother to respond besides apathetically mentioning:

“I’ll spend the night; it’s dark outside and I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

“It’s summertime, still sunny,” you highlight the indisputable truth to a guy that couldn’t care less.

“I’m tired. Crane pressured me to work! Did you know he took advantage of my kindness and made me sink a couple of hours in his project? What project you ask?” J cracks his neck although you weren’t curious. “I helped made your treatment,” he blurs out and your blank attitude irks The Clown. “You can compensate me by letting me crash here for the night.”

“I’m 100% sure my dad already compensated your efforts,” Y/N utters.

“Why was Sam here?” the earlier question is reprised in order to distract you.

“Are you jealous?” you nibble on your lasagna and J snarls:

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Then why do you have to know?”

“Professional interest,” the vague disclosure scores absolutely no credits with the feisty Y/N.

“That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” you shake your head and decide to unravel the mystery. “He picked up an item for his father. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” you tease and The Joker protests.

“I’m not worried! I don’t even care! Can I sleep here?” he switches the topic and has to boast: “We can party all night long like we did last time!” J sassily reveals; he believes you’ll mock yet it’s not the case.

“You’re very late to this party…” your voice dies out and The King of Gotham is aware what you’re referring to. He digs his fork in the fresh salad, reassuring on a whim:

“Better late than never…”


	3. Chapter 3

You’re done sampling the food that J brought over, quite annoyed he lied about the crepes; it was probably the only reason why you opened the door for him. Or maybe it was a different motive that you don’t like to think of because… what’s the point anyway?

“Crane said he added a new ingredient to your capsules,” The Joker brings it up. “I have no idea how he was able to get Cromyxillium since it’s just in experimental phase; I suppose he has awesome connections,” your guest chews one last bite of cashew salad.

“I know, he texted me but I didn’t answer back… I’m mad at him… I’m mad at everything these days,“ you admit and The King of Gotham piles up the empty styrofoam boxes, calculating how much money Scarecrow spent on a product that might be able to improve your condition.

Y/N watches him absent minded, too preoccupied with her problems to realize The King of Gotham is attentive to her words.

“I used to help my dad develop my remedy, still nothing works and he entirely immersed himself in this ridiculous task of saving me from terminal cancer. He ignored Evelyn for weeks until she left: she understood what he was doing up to a certain level; when it became an obsession…” and you sigh, aggravated by your father’s stubbornness. “I told him he has to patch up their relationship; I don’t him to be all alone after I’m gone…” you sulk and J grabs the containers, dumping them in the trashcan near the table.

“Yeah, Crane will probably be very lonely without you…” and J stops his innuendo when he comprehends how it sounds. “On a positive note,” The Clown Prince of Crime stretches, “I’m actually here to ensure you’re ok taking the capsules containing the new ingredient. Your father asked me to and I am notorious for being this…this selfless person ready to offer my services,” J over exaggerates his ability to sympathize with your situation. “He also warned me not to try anything funny. I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to share any of my funny jokes; doesn’t make any sense,” the distorted interpretation of your parent’s threat almost prompts Y/N’s smile.

“You probably pushed for this visit, taking advantage of the fact that me and my dad had a fight, hm?” you bluntly describe the truth and J can’t defend his absurd statements because your cell phone starts ringing; you glare at the screen, debating if you should answer or not.

“Is that him?” The Joker inquires and you nod a yes while deciding to accept Scarecrow’s call.

“Hello…” you sneak out on the patio as J figures he should walk to his car in order to retrieve the duffel bag fixed in advance for his sleepover.

*****************

Your conversation lasted for about 20 minutes thus The Joker jumped in the shower lacking any type of permission from Y/N; perhaps it could be the reason for your abrupt intrusion in the cozy bathroom.

“Can I take a shower with you?” he hears your question and for once J is uncertain of his reply, yet he is not the kind of person to show reluctance no matter the context.

“It’s your place, isn’t it?” he grumbles and distinguishes your silhouette beyond the steamy glass panels quickly stripping your clothes.

The Joker continues to scrub his skin, undisturbed by your request: he simply doesn’t care if you join him or not.

“I’m using your stuff,” J announces and your arms suddenly hug him from behind.

“You can use whatever you want,” your lips kiss the dragon tattoo on his back a couple of times and he doesn’t even turn around to peek.

“I gotta wash my hair,” he mutters and you brush your lips against his shoulder, sweetly offering:

“I can wash it for you.”

“I got it!” Y/N’s demand is cut off immediately; you’re so humiliated by his lack of interest you curse the dumb choice of being so straightforward: it’s not the first time he shows zero attraction towards his daughter’s best friend.

Your arms release the embrace and The Joker reprises his important chore while hearing you fumbling with toiletry items: you are finishing off your routine at an increased speed, willing to exit out of there as soon as possible.

A few minutes of silence, then The Clown Prince of Crime finally pronounces an insolent remark:

“I hope you saw a naked man before, Y/N! I don’t wanna be accused of traumatizing you. If it really makes you feel better, you can wash my hair.”

No smarty pants attitude rendered upon him and J gazes where you stood only to notice you’re gone: after quietly tiptoeing out of the shower, Y/N took her medications and prepared for the night ahead; she plans for J to sleep in the second bedroom at the small cabin, thus she will spend the night on the couch in the living room, watching TV until she’ll doze off.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker emerges from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. “Are we cuddling on that couch or do we have further arrangements?”

“Spare bedroom,” you grouchily mumble, getting comfortable under the blanket.

“I thought we’re cuddling buddies,” he pretends to be offended at your affirmation mostly since pushing the limit is encoded in his wretched DNA.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!” 

“My bad,” he grins. “I guess I was misled by your actions at the mansion.”

He has such a nerve bringing that up!

“I’m not the type of person to force myself on women,” The Joker innocently informs, “but can I watch TV with you? I’ll camp on the floor by the sofa which is my way to hint I need a bunch of soft blankets to pile up so I won’t break my back. I mean, it’s not very nice of you to deny me access on the couch; must I remind you I granted you free passage in my bed when you asked for it?”

“Are you for reals?!” an increasingly fuming Y/N shrieks slowly rolls out of her relaxing nest. “You were horrible to me and then tried to make it better just because you worried I’d tell Emma or my father! Well, rest assured: I’m not a snitch! You truly don’t have to extend your good will to such lengths on my account! It’s not necessary, ok?! You don’t have to drive here to bring my capsules, you don’t have to bring me food. You don’t have to do anything!!”

“Watch your tone!” J growls, displeased with your feisty attitude. “Do I have to remind you who barged into my privacy to take a peek at me naked?”

Your eyes are big at his derogatory insinuation: he’s playing stupid regarding the incident.

“I barged into your privacy?!” you shout, aggravated. “How can…”

“Umm…” The Joker interrupts, “…your nose is bleeding.”

You didn’t even detect the blood trickling down your skin and you touch it, confused. The King of Gotham watches you a few hesitant steps before you unexpectedly collapse to the ground.  
“Hey!” his voice echoes in and out. “Hey what’s wrong?… … Can you hear me?”

There’s this high pitch taking over your mind and you can barely discern bits and pieces of a conversation J is carrying with your father. You’re not even aware you’re in a moving vehicle, that’s how much you lost grip on reality.

“What’s in for me if I bring her over, huh?”

“I compensated you!! Two Nightmare ampoules, a small fortune on the black market! Get off your fucking high horse and bring me my daughter, would you?!” an exasperated parent admonishes.

“Maybe I will stop the car and let nature follow its course,” The Joker fights back Scarecrow’s affront, yet your dad has plenty on his plate .

“If you do such a thing and she dies, I’ll hold you responsible and trust me when I say you don’t want me to hold you responsible!!!” the serious ultimatum prompts your chauffeur to take a sharp turn on Highway 68. “Am I on speaker?” Jonathan checks without given his apparent opponent a chance to rationalize his behavior.

“Yes!” J snarls, pissed at the stupid rescue mission entrusted to him.

“Y/N, hang in there! I’ll get stuff ready by the time you arrive, alright?” Scarecrow encourages his daughter, afraid of the severe consequences of the experimental drug she ingested. 

“Mmmm,” you moan in your daze, not being able to respond.

“Keep her alert; we can’t have her sink into a coma! I have to formulate an IV mixture to flush the Cromyxillium out of her system!”

“She’s completely out!” The Joker states although there’s nobody at the other end of the line anymore. “Who’s we anyway?!” he huffs and elects to give it a go regardless. “Y/N, how many kids we would have had if we were married?… … … … … I think the precise answer is at least 4, am I correct?” J blabbers on since you don’t engage in the conversation. “Great…I’ll be held liable for your demise,” he bites his lower lip, vexed things didn’t shine too bright for him; in fact, no matter how hard The Clown tries the blame it on somebody else, he dug his own hole on this one.

****************

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the darkness, but the sharp poke in your arm makes you groan in pain.

“I’m sorry honey,” your father whispers. “We have to keep the IV for an hour, then I can take the needle out.”

“D-daddy…” you find the strength to stammer. “Am I… am I dying…?”

“No… No… I won’t let you die…” Scarecrow kisses your forehead, upset you don’t seem fine at all. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think you’ll have a reaction to Cromyxillium, not the way I bound the particles with the rest of the molecules.”

“You didn’t test it?” The Joker intervenes into a dialogue he should steer clear off.

“No, I didn’t have time to test it!” Jonathan hatefully stares at the man he wishes to strangle on the spot. “I don’t have time for anything!! Do you understand? My daughter is dying!! I’m not even that kind of doctor yet she’s breathing nevertheless due to my capability of manipulating compounds! Y/N would be 6 feet under with traditional chemotherapy, which proves I am doing a few things right!!! If Emma was sick, I’m certain you wouldn’t run your mouth like you do now!”

J wiggles in his chair, definitely about to erupt at Crane’s justified tirade.

“I’m so cold…” you utter, the ruckus adding to your general discomfort.

“That’s normal, it means the intravenous remedy is working; I’ll bring more covers,” Jonathan strolls out of the room only to gasp upon his return: J is snuggling with you, totally oblivious to your parent’s stupefied question: “What the hell are you doing??!!”

“I got off my high horse and I’m keeping her warm,” J stresses the importance of his random deed. “It’s not cheap thought! I demand…”

“You demand nothing!” Scarecrow covers you with more layers, irritated The King of Gotham has the audacity to milk out benefits in these circumstances; the latest wants to protest Jonathan’s vehement denial while not being conceded the prospect of such luxury:

“Dad…” you reach out your left hand and he sits by you, keeping the shaky fingers on his face. “Did… did you call Evelyn?” you barely blink, exhausted from the intensive treatment.

“I will…”

“You have to; I don’t want you to end up alone… She loves you… You could have more children with her… or at least one more…”

Jonathan Crane inhales, flustered his daughter is worried about him when she should worry about herself.

“I could have more kids, but don’t you know you’re irreplaceable?” he kisses your wrist and pretends to brush off the agony building up in his heart. “Don’t cry honey,” he wipes your tears, then casually shoves The Joker’s arm since is wrapped around your waist. “Your help is no longer required,” Scarecrow hints and his advice falls on deaf ears: J has important news that might switch the balance in his favor.

“I also called Emma on my way here to report about Y/N’s ordeal; she’s cutting her trip to New York short and I received strict orders to make myself useful until her arrival. Now, unless you want to deal with another pain in the ass besides your offspring, I suggest you tolerate my presence!”

Jonathan curls up in a ball on the vacant side of your bed, relieved to see you’re napping. “I didn’t feel the urge to punch someone in ages!” he sneers.

“Likewise!” The Joker barks too from behind your shoulder. “How come she passed out again?” he switches the subject and Jonathan explains without any trace of enthusiasm.

“I included a serum that promotes nice dreams in her IV bag: she’ll be in a deep sleep and envision things she likes.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m sure I’ll pop up in there then,” the excited Clown Prince of Crime emphasizes to your father’s disapproval.

“I said things she likes!”

**************

10:12am

“Hello Miss Crane,” you are greeted as you narrowly open your eyes; it takes a minute to recollect from the dizziness and confusion of last night’s episode.

“Where’s my dad?” you lick your dry lips, noticing J by the windows.

“At the lab; he’s consulting with some doctors or whatnot and left me in charge,” he effortlessly forges half a truth with half a lie.

“Where’s my phone? I want to talk to him.”

“I think I left it at the cabin, I was in a hurry to get you here.”

“You drove me?…” you skeptically interrogate.

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

“No…” you stretch while touching the band aid placed where the needle used to be. “Where’s Emma?”

“On her way back to Gotham; she called several times and tried talking to you but you were out.”

“Was I?…”

“U-hum,” J shakes his head. “I reckon she promised she’ll assist with your birthday party next week and she’s terrified you’ll kick the bucket in the meantime. She didn’t precisely articulate these sentences, but I‘m her dad: I can read in between the lines,” the proud Joker blurs out, loving the shocked look you display. “Am I invited to the celebration?”

You signal a no and he’s not discouraged by your vehement denial.

“Can I bring Mara?”

“Absolutely not!!!”

“Oh, so I’m actually invited but not her?”

He takes advantage of the speechless Y/N, setting up the stage for his own benefit:

“I can work with that,” he glares at you, gratified. “However, I can’t show at a party without a date; it’s not dignifying for a man of my social status. This leaves us with only one solution.”

“NO!” you protest because you can estimate his proposal.

“Cool, then we have a deal Miss Crane: you got yourself a date!”

“I already have a date!”

“Who?” The Joker smirks. 

“Sam is my date for my birthday.”

“Sam as in Bane’s son?”

“Yes,” you squirm under the blankets, uneasy at the concept of having J as partner for the upcoming bash.

“Pfft,” he huffs. “That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” your own words from last night are used by the obnoxious green haired menace. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday at 3pm, ok?”

“The party is here at my house!”

“Ok, then you pick me up at 3pm.”

“I’m not picking you up!” you scoff at his nonsense.

“Damn, you’re hard to negotiate with,” The Joker scratches his chin. “Fine, I’ll bring myself here.”

You contemptuously stare at him, appalled he keeps on insisting when you declined his plan. On top of everything, the whole universe is getting the confirmation today that Jonathan Crane’s genius is frankly skipping a generation since you enunciate:

“Don’t be late!”


	4. Chapter 4

Your Birthday

“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.

The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.

You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:

“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”

“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.

“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.

“Y/N, can you not?!”

“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:

“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.

The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”

“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.

“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.

“… Whose baby is this?!…” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.

“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.

“I’ll go open the door for him then.”

“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”

“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.

“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.

“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”

“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.

“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”

“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.

Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.

They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!

*************

After one hour

“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”

“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.

“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”

“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.

Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:

“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”

“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”

Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”

“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.

“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.

“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.

“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:

“I couldn’t find any.”

“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.

“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.

“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”

“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.

“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.

“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”

“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.

“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.

“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”

“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”

“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.

“What do you fight it with then?”

“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”

“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”

“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”

“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.

“Yeah…why would you be jealous?…” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.

************

9:49pm 

You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.

“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.

“No!” you grouchily snarl.

He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:

“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”

“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.

“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.

“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”

“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”

“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”

You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.

“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”

“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”

“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”

“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.

“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”

“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”

“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.

“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.

“Why not?”

“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”

“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.

You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.

“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”

The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:

“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”

“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”

“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.

“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”

“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.

It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:

“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.

“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.

“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?” 

“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”

“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.

“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.

“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”

“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night. 

“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”

“… … … … … … … You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.

“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.

She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.


	5. Chapter 5

The Joker feels his face covered in soft kisses and although generally speaking he loves being pampered, this particular instance awakens his self-defense mechanism.

“What time is it?” J mutters.

“Let me see,” you stretch for your phone. “12:03 am.”

“I should go,” he lifts his head up from the pillow and you pull him back in your arms, yawning.

“Stay for a little bit longer, ok?”

“Why?”

“I wish to hold on to my birthday present for a few more minutes,” Y/N pleads with the man she senses doesn’t want to be there anymore. “Don’t worry, I’m aware it was a casual affair,” your sad smile prompts a completely out of context answer:

“If you noticed I fell asleep, you should have woken me up!” The King of Gotham complains.

“I fell asleep also,” you snuggle to him and since J is suddenly quiet you whisper. “It was amazing.”

He keeps staring which makes you wonder what the hell is going on in his mind right now.

“At least for me,” you underline after you grasp he won’t comment on the subject; you didn’t have a clue he’ll convert the night you spent together into awkwardness for no reason. “Get out of my tent!” you snap at his behavior, irritated. “Get out!” you shove him and The Clown Prince of Crime doesn’t budge.

“Why are you mad?” he finally addresses the annoyed Y/N.

“Because you’re a jerk!”

“Come again?!” The Joker frowns and Scarecrow’s daughter has a clever response; she doesn’t share his genes for nothing.

“I would but I guess you’re not a big fan of us having sex a second time!!!”

“Wow!” J bitterly scoffs. “You sure can twist a guy’s words, huh? If you really must pry into my personal life, I’ll have you know that I’m not used with small talk afterwards, understand?”

While you wonder if he’s bluffing, you can’t help offer the benefit of doubt served with a side of insolence.

“Well, maybe if you would give it a try with someone that actually cares, you’d have stuff to discuss.”

“Miss Crane, what makes you think Mara doesn’t like me?”

The Joker expects a feisty reply to his audacious remark yet he receives a piece of sturdy logic instead:

“If she was crazy in love, she wouldn’t agree and with this on and off relationship you two have.”

J is obviously displeased at your statement thus Y/N has to unleash her creativity in order to push him comprehend what she’s aiming at.

“The problem is you don’t approach anything important, you only shut down everyone. Even Emma believes she’s not yours.”

The King of Gotham was preparing to lash out but your latest sentence totally catches him off guard.

“What do you mean?!”

“You never talk about her mother granted she keeps asking so Emma presumes you probably stole her from an individual you consider your enemy and raised her as revenge.”

“Huh?!” The Joker gets on his elbow, appalled. “She is my daughter!”

“I say that to her when she panics, unfortunately random people do look similar…,” you twirl a strand of his green hair around your fingers. “Steering clear from issues we’re uncomfortable with doesn’t necessarily result in a positive outcome,” Y/N concludes and her partner is not excited at all.

“Are you psychoanalyzing me?!”

“I’m a Crane,” you peck his lips. “It’s in our blood.”

A lot of thoughts rushing behind those blue eyes and you’re confident his patience is running low; add a short fuse to the combo and according to your flawless instinct J will bite soon.

“Take me for example,” you attempt to cram in the main point of your dialogue before it happens. “I don’t care you’re older, I fancy your company nevertheless: you’re super handsome plus emotionally unattractive…”

“I’m what?!” The Joker interrupts.

“Umm… emotionally unattractive?” you hesitantly repeat while watching him jump off the pillows and start to collect his clothes in the semi darkness.

“Serves me right for sleeping with somebody half my age!” he growls at the young woman realizing she upset him with her rant.

“So you’re 46?” you struggle to joke at his affirmation.

“Listen here, Miss Crane!” J dresses in a hurry, angry at your stunt. “If you imagine you figured me out, you didn’t!! Nobody fucks with me!” he violently kicks the mattress and you can’t avoid it:

“I think I just did. Literally.”

The hate in his demeanor makes you regret opening up; your goal was to imply you like him no matter what yet the aftermath is way off what you intended.

“I apologize, OK?” you sigh and reach your hand for his.

“I hope you perish!” he strikes your fingers with such brutality it stings. “You’re dying anyway but hopefully the Cromyxillium kills you faster!” The Joker unzips the tent and leaves a shocked Y/N breathless at his hurtful tirade.

“That’s all you got? Stupid old man…” you whimper and cuddle under the thin blanket with his cushion.

Grief is not the correct term to describe what you experience for the moment: a perfect birthday turned into exactly the opposite in a blink of an eye simply because The Joker proved once more he has no concept on how to handle dynamite; fire suits him better.

***************

Next morning, 10:14am

“Are you hot or cold?” your father inquires since your intravenous therapy commenced 10 minutes ago.

“No,” you gaze at the IV bag and Jonathan lingers by your bed, reminding his offspring about their plan.

“We’ll do 3 hours on, 3 hours off; I’ll monitor your vitals and if you feel strange alert me immediately, deal?”

You nod a yes and his perseverance in aiding you with your terminal cancer evokes a sincere confession:

“Daddy…Thank you for trying to save me…I’m sorry I’m a burden…”

“A burden?!” Scarecrow mumbles.

There are a million facts you should evoke, yet the predominant one keeps hunting you.

“You buried yourself in the lab because of me…and Evelyn left…”

“Evelyn and I broke up for various motives,” your parent grumbles. “Saying I immersed myself into working because of you hints that I was forced into it against my will which is not true. I did everything out of love… I can’t bear the idea of losing you,” he kisses your temple; you wrap your free arm around his neck, squeezing him tight.

“You’re the best dad; I’m lucky you’re my father. If I die… you think mom is waiting for me?…”

Jonathan Crane has the weird sensation he’s choking; his wife died after you were born due to leukemia, now their daughter is fighting for survival: she’s plainly the last fortress separating him from utter madness.

“I couldn’t save your mother, but I’ll be damned if I let you die kid,” he caresses your cheek. “She can wait; I bet she’s not eager to take you with her,” Scarecrow reassures his daughter. “Rest honey.”

“I will…” you consent and Emma barging in the bedroom with her duffle bag switches your attention.

“I’m here, I’m here!” she exclaims. “Traffic was horrible, bad accident on the freeway!”

**************

11 am

“Are you comfortable?” Emma checks with her friend, not entirely certain how to bring up a very delicate topic clouding her usually bubbly disposition.

“Of course,” you smile and she wiggles in her recliner. “Are you?” you wink at her visible restlessness as you attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“Y/N…,” she taps the fluffy carpet with her feet. “Mmmm… last night after we returned from the river I dropped by to see how you’re doing and… I came to your tent…,” Emma pauses seeing the stupefied expression on your face. “I…I found my father sleeping in there with you…”

You lick your lips and strain to keep your calm even if your heart is pounding out of your chest.

“Did my dad take advantage of you?” she lowers her voice and you can tell she’s torn apart by the horrible notion.

“He didn’t,” you shake your head.

“Dumb girl…” Emma admonishes without any trace of resentment; what else can she articulate in these circumstances regardless? 

“I can’t believe I’m inquiring… Did you use protection?”

“No…It just happened…”

“Oh my God!” the concerned judgement pressures you to continue:

“It didn’t end well so it’s fair to assume we’re not in any danger of me becoming your stepmom,” your tone diminishes and she leans over to scold when The Joker passes by the opened door without bothering to peek inside your bedroom; you didn’t spot him but Emma did.

“I’ll be back!” she hisses and you’re confused at her desire to leave you.

“Hey, where are you going?”

She ignores your question and races after The King of Gotham, catching up with him at the end of the long corridor.

“Dad!” Emma shouts and he turns around.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?!” she interrogates the clueless Joker.

“I’m meeting Crane. Is he downstairs?”

“In his lab compounding the next batch of Cromyxillium for Y/N,” she fumes at J’s impertinence. “Didn’t you forget something?”

He seems puzzled and Emma is not tricked by his deceiving performance.

“My best friend is in her quarters, uncertain if she’ll survive the cancer treatment. Are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“Meaning?” The Joker sneers.

“I know you slept with her!” the accusation follows instantly. “Don’t deny it! How could you take advantage of her?!”

The Clown Prince of Crime straightens his shoulders, aware he can’t negotiate his innocence out of this complicated riddle.

“I did not take advantage of her! How dare you accuse me of such low move?”

“You didn’t?” Emma closes the gap between them. “You know she has a crush on you and she’s vulnerable; what type of man would prey on that?!”

J is not thrilled with the innuendos and cuts her off:

“She basically begged for some and I obliged out of pity!”

Emma slaps him and The Joker gasps, enraged she had the audacity:

“Do that again and I’ll neglect you’re my daughter!” he growls and the serious threat doesn’t faze her.

“Hurt her more and I’ll forget you’re my father! If you are indeed my father,” she emphasizes while stomping away towards the kitchen.

“I am your father!” J simmers at her impeccable strategy: Emma is retreating to a different corner of the house giving him the opportunity to choose.

Who the heck knows if she’s actually his?

One thing is undeniable though: they share the same despicable temper.

****************

You discern The Joker in the doorway and your body stiffens; you stare at the TV screen wishing he’ll disappear.

“Where’s Crane?” J analyzes Y/N’s IV pole.

You don’t engage so his crankiness emerges.

“I suppose you didn’t flatlined yet!”

“Nope,” you grunt at the provocative declaration that served its goal: you did reply to The Clown’s rubbish.

“Where’s Crane?”

“I heard you the first time and I’m not sure why you focus your energy on a useless interrogation. You know where my father is!”

“Where?” The Joker’s vile attitude can’t compromise for less than instigating his fling.

“Please take your stuff that’s firm now but will get saggy in maximum 20 years and vanish!” the poisonous remark makes him groan.

“What stuff?!”

You check him out glaring at his mid-section before dismissing his presence.

“That’s the rudest fucking criticism ever!” The Joker barks and Y/N crabbily indicates:

“It’s not criticism, it’s reality! Gravity’s a bitch! Mara won’t mind, won’t she? After all, you two share a very special bond: on today, off tomorrow, hookup next week, take a break next month. Such dreamy relationship!”

“Do you have more derogatory references to my private life?!” J grinds his teeth ready to unleash several atrocities your way.

“No, too busy dying…” you show him the needle in your arm. “I don’t feel the pain from the medication burning my veins; I’m used with my sickness, with the ups and downs. What I do feel is the pain of being taken for granted.”

The Joker is not a fan of the insinuated context. 

“You said no strings attached!” he stresses the lack of commitment consented the previous evening.

“You’re the one that came to me; I thought it meant you were accepting to be the center of my universe.”

J ogles the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom and assembles a couple of harsh disclosures in his brain when her entitled smirk halts the project.

“You’re buying it, aren’t you?” you chuckle at his astonishment. “I’m just messing with you Mister Joker; who in their right mind would make you the center of their universe?! You have 10 seconds to leave, otherwise I’ll scream and security will come!” you shelter your head with the quilt so you don’t have to see his mug anymore.

No outpour of vexation from his part which is cool: means he bailed.

The blanket is slowly pulled until your eyes emerge; J hovers your face, pissed at the unwelcomed clash.

“I’m checking if you kicked the bucket; corpses are usually covered thus my dilemma.”

“Go away!” you advise. “Or I’ll scream!”

You inhale preparing to yell: The Joker didn’t predict you’d defy him and he swiftly kisses you in order to stop the sounds.

The door is cracked and Emma witnesses the scene, reckoning bizarre elements:

Her father holds grudges and was mad at Y/N earlier due to whatever happened yesterday; nevertheless he still kissed her.

On the other hand, you were definitely miserable after your escapade, yet you didn’t reject him.

Emma may not be informed about the entire story, but one detail is crystal clear: the future is far from being simple.


End file.
